


Can I tell you a secret?

by m_feys



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Acceptance, Bisexual Jonathan Byers, Canon Gay Character, Coming Out, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Future Fic, Gen, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Jonathan POV, Jonathan is in college, brothers supporting each other, past trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-13 14:10:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20583788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m_feys/pseuds/m_feys
Summary: Jonathan had always known he was different. Just a little too far out of line. People always picked up on that sort of thing, even if none of them— not even himself— understood what it meant.





	Can I tell you a secret?

**Author's Note:**

> they're not directly related to each other, but if you want something similar to this you can also read my fic ['a good thing'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20560106) (tho if you want to do that i would recommend reading this fic after reading that, which is set earlier + written first)

"Can I tell you a secret?" Comes the whisper just after he shuts off the lights. 

Jonathan likes it like this, it reminds him of sleepovers he never had as a kid. He loves when Will visits his college and stays a few days in his dorm. It also reminds him of real times when they would wake up on a sleepy Saturday when Mom would already be at work and Jonathan would make them breakfast, like always, and they would watch cartoons together on the couch.

"Yeah," he says, and there's not a universe where he would say no to Will.

"Being here with you reminds me of back home. Like, home, home I mean. Like Hawkins. Is that weird?"

"No," Jonathan says, and there's a grin pulling at his lips now that he's not sure Will can see in the darkness. But he is certain he can hear it in his voice, "I think the same thing. It's just... being back together like this."

"Yeah," Will agrees and the silence returns for a moment.

"Can I tell you a secret?" he echos in a whisper of his own, feeling nervous around his brother for the first time in forever. He stares up at the shadows on the ceiling, eyes beginning to adjust to the inky dark.

"Yes."

It's not a shock that he says yes, but for a long while, Jonathan finds himself unable to speak. As if he never expected to actually have to say it. He just breathes for a moment, trying not to sound panicked. Before he sits up sharply, deciding that this is not the kind of thing he can say without looking at his brother.

He can see the outline of his face in the wane moonlight and dark eyes glinting as he watches him neutrally.

He takes another slow breath in, meeting his brother's eyes and willing his voice not to shake. "I'm— I think I like guys too..." he takes another sharp inhale, "I mean, like I still like girls... I'm still in love with Nancy, obviously, I just mean. I'm, like, maybe... guys... too," he finishes lamely.

Will's expression doesn't really change for a moment, and it's kind of comforting, in a way, that's he just sort of a blank slate for this. At the same time, it's totally nerve-wracking.

Then, "really?" He asks, expression open now, and, sort of... hopeful.

Jonathan swallows and nods. "Yeah, really. I've just been thinking about it, a lot," he admits. "You... you coming out, kinda gave me the courage to actually like... _let_ myself think about it? And, I guess, talk about it now," he laughs nervously, lifting a hand to brush through the hair at the back of his neck. "I mean... Not that it really means anything, because I'm with someone, long term, but just. I dunno, I've been thinking about it," he shrugs helplessly, feeling a little hopeless like he's trying to untangle a knot that's already been pulled too taut.

Will is pushing himself up to sitting as well. "It means something to me," he murmurs and then he's looping his arms around Jonathan's shoulders. Jonathan lets out a shuddering breath of relief, somehow he'd been afraid Will might reject him outright. It's not as if his brother would ever actually do that, he knows, but it always feels like there's still that chance. He returns the hug fiercely. 

He presses his cheek to Will's hair, trying to blink away the tears warming his eyes. His little brother is eighteen now. He came out to all of them, officially, two years ago and Jonathan was _so_ proud. He'd wished he had that kind courage when he was sixteen, the kind of courage to face people with your truest self. And then he kept wishing, and started realizing.

"I thought I was alone," Will says, so softly, muffled where his head is tucked into Jonathan's shoulder. And, at those words, his heart _breaks_.

For a moment it's silent all but for the sound of Jonathan's unsteady breathing. Tears are already slipping down his cheeks as he holds onto his brother even tighter, hands gripping fistfuls of his t-shirt.

"Jonathan?" Comes his name, soft and so full of concern. At that sentiment, a sob rips itself from his throat. And he can't stop.

He's gasping out choked cries, face twisted mournfully as Will's hands shift to rub his back in soothing circles, like how Mom used to do for them, and how Jonathan used to do for Will.

"Jonathan?" His name comes again, sounding more panicked this time.

"I'm s-sorry!" He sobs, too loudly, "I'm sorry, I'm so, s-so sorry," he cries and he can't stop no matter how much he wants to. He's worrying Will and he feels so useless and weak and he _can't_ stop. "I never— never wanted you to f-feel alone. A-and I let you down. I-I let you down," he says finally, shaking and breathing still uneven but more subdued now that the worst of it has forced its way out of his chest.

"Hey," Will starts, pulling away enough to look at him, properly, his hands solid on Jonathan's shoulders. As much as Jonathan just wants to hold on to him, he lets him go, he knows Will prefers his space. But he lowers his head and shields his face with a hand pressed to his forehead. He doesn't want his younger brother to see him like this— so broken up, all ugly and uneven edges. It was shattered glass that he preferred to sweep out of sight, away from anyone's eyes, but especially Will.

"I'm sorry," he says again trying to force his voice into something less broken, moving his hand to scrub at his face, "I— I didn't mean to— I shouldn't have—"

His brother's voice is hushed and careful as he speaks once more, cutting him off, "Jonathan, hey, hey," he starts calmly, and Jonathan wishes he didn't know so starkly how and when he got so mature, "you never let me down. Okay? You were there if I needed to talk or needed someone to lean on. You were always there for me, even when you couldn't be there for yourself," he says the last part as a whisper, like its a secret kept between them. And Jonathan supposes it is.

He blinks at him, trying to diminish the blur of tears so he can see his brother's face clearly. Will is smiling at him, bittersweetly. "Okay?" Will asks mildly, looking for confirmation.

He swallows. The lump in his throat is still there, but its lessening. "Okay," he agrees slowly.

Then, "I'm sorry," Jonathan says again, still feeling awful, and guilty, and the hundred other emotions he keeps in his aching chest. The ones that still choke him up, or cut him to ribbons— all the time.

Will laughs softly, "I thought that was my catchphrase," he teases gently.

Jonathan musters a smile for him, "hey, well, you had to get it from somewhere."

Will's smile falls away bit by bit, until he's staring down, picking at the sheets. "Hey, just— You didn't let me down, okay? Don't say that. You..." he sighs, looking back up at Jonathan earnestly, slouching with his legs curled towards himself. Being taller had only made the way he always folded in on himself that much more obvious.  
"You remember after I went missing?" He asks, choosing the words carefully. Jonathan nods along solemnly, apprehensive for where this was going. "And I called myself a freak," he says, mouth quirking now as he goes on, "and you agreed with me?" He laughs lightly, "and now, every single time someone calls me a freak or any other nasty shit, I just think of you and I think: _'Who would wanna be a Kenny Rogers when you can be a freak?'_" He smiles, more easily this time, less tinged with grief.

Jonathan had always known he was different. Just a little too far out of line. People always picked up on that sort of thing, even if none of them— not even himself— understood what it meant.

People saw it in Will too, he knows. He knows so well. Their dad had seen it and he had been the first person to punish him for it. And that wasn't something you ever forgot.

So, their dad might have been the first but he wasn't the last, not by a long shot. People will use every little thing about you to tear you apart, your clothes, what you look like, or the way you talk. All to push you out, for something they don't understand. Eventually— in all the isolation and being told he was _wrong_ in some unnamed way— there came a point where Jonathan discovered that you were allowed to revel in it instead. In being different, an outcast, a freak.  
He'd already learned he _couldn't_ be like everyone else. But at some point, alone in his room, with rock music blaring and singers wailing, but he realized, he didn't really _want_ to be normal, anyway. That had just been what other people wanted. It's almost amazing that it took him this long to understand why.

Right here, knowing that feeling had helped Will too, Jonathan can only blink as more tears escape his eyes. Looking at his little brother, who is still smiling at him softly. Jonathan reaches for him once more, hauling him back in for another hug. He holds him too close. It's the sort of hug where normally Will would complain, that it's too tight, too suffocating. This time he doesn't and only rests his hands on Jonathan's back in return.

He lets him go anyway, even if he wants to keep holding on. He has the urge to tell Will that he wants to keep him safe, above all else, but Jonathan knows that his brother can take care of himself now and Will doesn't want them to doubt that.

He returns Will's smile, wiping away his tears. "I'm so proud of you," he says instead— because it's true. "Have I told you that?" he asks, giving him a wry grin, tears still cling to his eyelashes.

Will grins too. "Yeah, between you and mom?" he asks, as he mocks counting on his fingers, "only about... a thousand times," he says with an affectionate roll of his eyes.

Jonathan shakes his head, looking down and smiling to himself now, "guess I gotta start saying it more often, then, that number's way too low."

"Shut up," Will tells him with an easy smile and a gentle shove to the shoulder.

He takes a breath then, steadying himself and smiling at Will fondly. "Wanna go to sleep now?" he offers, feeling exhausted from everything bursting through like a river through a dam.

"Yeah."

They both flop back down on the pull out bed, shifting back under the blankets before settling again into the quiet of the night.

Will's voice breaks the silence once more, humorous in that reserved way of his, "besides, it's not like you should get to do everything first just cause you're older," he decides drily.

Jonathan snorts, "yeah, alright, you get to be gay first."

"Jesus Christ," Will swears, laughter bubbling up from him now while Jonathan grins along.

As his laughter dies down Will sobers before telling him carefully, "you can call yourself bisexual, you know?"

"Yeah?" He responds, trying not to sound so unsure, so vulnerable. He hadn't quite noticed himself, the way he'd been avoiding it. Until now, when he tenses at the thought of saying it. But it seems like had Will caught onto his hesitation easily.

"Yeah, it can be yours now. Men and women: bisexual."

He hums. "Bisexual," he whispers, trying the word out for himself. He lets out a breath through his nose. It feels strange and uncomfortable, and so new. But progress, never really felt comfortable.  
Maybe he could tell Nancy next. The thought sends a coil of nervous energy twisting through him, but he finds he _wants_ her to know, even if he's not quite sure how she'll take it. Still, he thinks it will be ok, Nancy never was one for being what other people expected. And she'd never wanted him to be, either.

A new word for himself. His lips quirk in a nervous smile. Bisexual.

**Author's Note:**

> I really love writing this family <3, more one-shots like this coming soon.
> 
> please let me know if you enjoyed this!! ^^


End file.
